Your Light Sets Me Free
by prettypilipala
Summary: Two years after the war has ended, Hermione wakes from her coma, but she's now blind. Will she be able to adjust to her new life, when it means living with the one who took her sight? DracoHermione
1. Awakening

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter is owned by JKRowling. The title, 'Your Light Sets Me Free', is a line from Meat Loaf's _Blind as a Bat_.

* * *

In the wards of St Mungo's, reserved for casualties of the war that had ended two years ago, a girl lay. She had a room to herself, and around her table were flowers, an Order of Merlin, First Class and _Hogwarts: A History_. Visiting time was coming to an end, and the black-haired boy who clutched her hand knew it full well. He lifted his gaze to the red-head opposite him.

"Nearly time, Ron," he said, anguish in his bright green eyes, framed by black glasses still held together by Sellotape. The red-head nodded, wiping a hand over his tired eyes.

"Oh Hermione," he said softly, "why won't you wake up for us? It's been two years." He gave a weak, forced chuckle. "Think of all the work you could be doing."

"All the reading," Harry grinned, his smile as forced as Ron's laugh. "There's a world full of house-elves out there that need to be freed."

"A library full of books you haven't read."

"A new generation of people for you to lecture." Sad, grief-filled laughs filled the small room, cutting off abruptly as a kindly witch opened the door.

"I'm sorry, Mr Potter," she said apologetically, "Mr Weasley. It's time for you to leave." Around the witch's legs two children peeped, one with flaming red hair and bright green eyes, the other with dishwater-blonde hair and dreamy blue eyes. Harry held out his arms for the red-haired girl, and Ron swung the dishwater-blonde into his arms.

"Come on," he said to her as she rested her head against his shoulder. "Aunty Hermione is still sleeping."

"And you need to be, too," reprimanded Harry as he left the room. In the doorway they looked back. Hermione seemed so pale on the bed, growing thinner by the day despite the work of St Mungo's finest. Her brown hair was lank, fanned out on the pillow around, and her eyes were closed. They didn't even flicker – Ron sighed.

"I wish she would just move."

"Me too, mate." Harry felt tears come to his eyes. "Me too."

The witch entered to check Hermione's vital signs, to check for any change, in the hopes she would awaken from her coma. Harry, Ron and their children hung in the doorway, watching with optimism.

"No change," the witch sighed. The three left, tears in Harry and Ron's eyes, sadness and fatigue lingering around the witch. The door closed silently, and still Hermione didn't move, as she hadn't every time visiting had ended for the past two years.

* * *

Dark. 

That was what she saw when, with a jolt, as if she'd had a dream about falling and woken with a start, she sat bolt upright in bed. Darkness. Her eyes were open, she reached up to touch her eyelids and she could feel them wide, blinking, eyelashes tickling her fingertips. Panic rose within her.

"Where am I?" she screamed. _"Where am I?!"_ There were footsteps, stampeding towards her, and she heard a door fling open and hit the wall, but still there was no light. Voices gabbled at her, she could hear individual words but nothing that made sense, and she _hated_ it when things didn't make sense. Arms wrapped around her, and more, and she felt like she was being suffocated.

"Where am I?" she whispered, and then she was relieved because it was Harry who answered.

"You're in St Mungo's, Hermione. You've been here for ages."

"The war? Is it over?" Ron answered, and the feeling of claustrophobia left her, because now she knew who was hugging her. She lifted her arms clumsily and tried to find them, eventually settling her hands on their backs.

"Yes," he said and he laughed. "It's over, Hermione." She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Turn the lights on, you silly, so I can see you properly," she grinned. An awkward silence followed her words, and in the moments that followed she could hear the room's occupants breathing.

"Well?" she demanded teasingly. "Aren't you going to let me see you now?" Another weight was on the bed, and then a small voice broke the silence by saying "Aunty Hermione?", pronouncing it akin to how Viktor had said it in her fourth year.

"Aunty?" she asked the darkness. Harry let go of her, and took her hand instead.

"Hermione, you've been unconscious for more than two years," he said slowly. "This is Lily Hermione, my daughter." She smiled at the name.

"And this," added Ron as another weight pulled down the bed, "is my daughter, Molly Jane."

"Daughters…?" Hermione whispered wonderingly. "Two _years_?"

"Two years," confirmed Harry, squeezing her hand. She smiled as brightly as she could, though she could feel her face heating up with embarrassment and shock.

"All the more reason for you to turn the lights on," she grinned, "so that I can see your beautiful children." Once more an awkward silence descended, and Ron took her other hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Hermione," he said hesitantly, taking a deep breath before he continued. Hermione wondered why he was so slow in answering her. "The lights are on already."

"They've never been off," Ron supplied. "Hermione, you're looking really pale." Hermione lifted her hands to her face, touching her cheeks. They were warm, she noted.

"So…" she asked slowly, hysteria rising within her voice, "if the lights are on, why can't I see?"

"I don't know." Harry gave a sigh and she realised he was probably running his hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't know at all, Hermione."

"We'll let the nurse check you over," Ron said. "Molly's nearly falling asleep, I'd better get her back to Luna."

"Luna?" Hermione said wonderingly. "You married Luna?" She was beginning to realise just how much she had missed. _Two years._ There were two years of her life that she would never be getting back.

"Yeah," Ron said sheepishly. "Well. We haven't got married yet."

"Neither have me and Ginny," Harry said. Hermione shook her head.

"Ginny and I," she corrected. Harry laughed, and then ruffled her hair – at least, she thought it was him. "Why?"

"We wanted you at the wedding," Ron said quietly. Harry was silent before answering "Oh sorry, Hermione – I was nodding." More footsteps sounded, and then a female voice spoke, crisply, "May we check her over, gentlemen?"

"Oh, right." The two weights were lifted off the bed, and two kisses were dropped onto her head. "We'll be back later, Hermione. We'll bring Ginny and Luna, they'll love to see you."

"Let's just hope I can see them," she joked weakly. Matching laughs answered her, and then the room was quiet except for muttered spells. Warmth spread over her body, and she realised they were spells to investigate how she was after waking up. She lay back, and closed her eyes because there was no point in keeping them open.

Two years.

"Open your mouth," instructed the crisp voice of the nurse. Hermione opened obediently and a liquid splashed into it – tasting of cinnamon and smelling of lavender. Dreamless sleep, she noted with mild interest, and then she fell asleep.

* * *

When she awoke this time, it was to voices. There was no visible change in her – a tiny jolt, from _asleep_ to _awake_. She kept her eyes shut and listened. 

"I'm sorry, Mister Potter," a male voice was saying. "There's nothing we can do. We didn't detect this damage until it was far too late for us to save her optic nerves."

"Why didn't you notice?" Harry's voice, and he was angry. "Calm down, Harry." Ginny's voice, low and soothing.

"Our concentration was on her brain, Harry." Another voice, vaguely familiar but she couldn't place it. "We wanted to know why she wouldn't wake. There didn't seem to be any reason for it – we never could have connected it to neurological damage. The spells she was hit with usually cause brain damage; it must have been modified and we didn't notice."

"Neurological?" Ron. "Does this mean her other nerves have been affected?"

"There's no way of telling yet, until she's able to undergo more physical tests to investigate."

"So she might be suffering, but you don't know?" Ron again, heavily sarcastic. "And this is the best place for healing in the world!"

"Ron, you need to calm down." A softer voice. Luna, she recognised. "It can't be helped. Mistakes have been made during this war by everyone."

"We just ought to be glad she's alive and awake." Ginny again, and then a sigh.

"You're right." Harry again, sounding sad and desperate. "I just… Merlin, it feels like my fault. She was protecting me, helping me…"

"Hermione would hex you into next week for saying that," Ginny said, and Hermione could almost picture her smiling.

"I would," she said loudly, knowing that all attention was drawn to her now. "In fact, Ginny, if you put my wand into my hand and point it at him I'll do it now." Silence, and then the room exploded into laughter and she received a hug as she sat up.

"I'm glad you're awake," Ginny whispered into her ear. Hermione lifted her arms and found Ginny by patting the air until she patted Ginny's sides. She hugged her back.

"Me too," she said sincerely. "More so than you, I'll bet." Ginny laughed and let her go, and slimmer arms wrapped around her. Luna.

"Welcome back," said Luna's dreamy voice, still as detached from reality as always. Hermione swung her arms from Ginny until she bumped them into Luna, and hugged her back as best she could.

"Thank you," she said happily. "Now, is someone going to tell me what sort of neurological damage we're talking about?"

"How much did you hear?" asked Harry. Hermione shrugged.

"Pretend I didn't hear anything," she suggested. Silence, then a slap.

"She can't see you nodding, you prat," Ron commented. Harry groaned.

"That hurt, you prat," he answered teasingly. "Sorry, Hermione – this is taking some getting used to."

"Funnily enough, I had noticed that much," she said sarcastically, grinning. She could almost picture Harry's sheepish smile.

"Sorry," he said again. "From what we can gather from Healer Smith-"

"Zacharias?" she asked, recalling the familiar tone in the voice.

"Yeah, that git," Harry laughed. "He's been taking care of you. He said there's some neurological damage, your optic nerves have been destroyed." Harry was trying to sound matter-of-fact, and it helped. "He's not sure of the extent of the nerve damage, but now you're awake you can help him out. Probably show him a few things, too." Hermione grinned.

"What tests do you want to do?" she asked the air. Zacharias answered promptly.

"Just some basic ones – spell casting, treadmill, et cetera," he said quickly. "As soon as you're ready, we can get a better analysis of how you are, how you're coping, and we can get you ready for release."

Hermione nodded, turning her head in the direction of his voice. She took a deep breath – _I want to go home and be better_ – and readied herself.

"Let's do them now."

"Are you sure?" Ron asked with concern. "I mean you've only been awake for about a day."

"And I've been sleeping for two years," she retorted, poking her tongue out and eliciting laughter from the others. "I'll be alright, Ron. You and Harry had better take your partners home, though."

"Why?" asked Harry. Hermione smiled warmly.

"You've got weddings to arrange," she commented. A loud squeal came from Ginny, and arms were thrown around her neck, squeezing her tightly.

"That's right!" she squealed again. "Harry, come on! Hermione doesn't need you to hold her hand, but I need you to come and help me organise!"

"Oh God." Harry said this with a laugh. "What have you done, Hermione?"

"Go on," she urged with a smile, feeling for the edge of the bed and swinging her legs over it. So far, everything else seemed fine. "Go home and get your weddings organised. I'll be fine, but you won't be if you don't go with Ginny right now."

"Too true," Ginny said with a snicker. "We'll come back in visiting hour, Hermione."

"See you then," Luna added, giving her another hug. "Goodbye," added Ron.

"Zacharias, keep us updated," Harry instructed. "Hermione, you know you can hex him if he annoys you," he added with a grin.

"Goodbye, Harry," Hermione said pointedly with a grin.

"See you later, Hermione." The room emptied – at least, she assumed it did, because the feeling of fullness went to one of emptiness – and then Zacharias spoke.

"We'll get you back in shape in no time," he promised. "Everything we can do, we will do."

"Thank you." Arms held hers, as if steadying her, and she tried to stand up. At first she staggered, her legs unused to the weight, but soon she was standing up, supported by those arms.

"I'm ready to go home," she said simply. "And I'll do whatever it takes."

"Very well." The arms guided her forward. "We'll have you home by the end of the week at the latest, Hermione. I promise."

"Thank you," she said again, smiling gratefully. She had two years to catch up on, and she couldn't do it whilst stuck in a bed in St Mungo's. _Whatever it takes_, she vowed, _I will get better. I will go home._

* * *

The tests were simple, as Zacharias had promised. She had to walk, then jog, then run on a treadmill; it took a while for her to get used to it at first, since her legs were refusing to take orders from her brain, but eventually she was supporting herself, balancing, walking, running. All the while, Zacharias was making strange comments to a nurse, speaking in jargon that she didn't understand. 

Then there was co-ordination. She had to show she could balance, could touch her nose, could follow simple directions, to exercise all her limbs. They still worked, though there was pain in her arms as she moved them.

"We can create a potion to make that go away," Zacharias promised. "So far, it's looking good for you." Hermione smiled. _I can do this._

Then her wand was placed into her hand, and Zacharias said "Show us some magic, Hermione. Just some simple spells, don't go _accio_ing anything or hurting yourself." She nodded.

"Lumos!" she commanded, waiting for the familiar flare of light to burst through the darkness. It never came. "Lumos!" she said again. "Lumos!"

"Hermione!" Zacharias said sharply. "It worked the first time!"

"But I can't see it," she whispered. A comforting hand was placed on her shoulder, and she whispered "Nox."

"It's okay, Hermione," he whispered back. "Your magic is working fine. Don't worry about it."

"But how can I do magic if I can't see?" she asked. Zacharias smiled.

"I don't know," he answered, honestly. "I really don't know." Hermione wanted to cry, but she wasn't even sure if she could do that any more.

"We'll figure something out," Zacharias promised, seeing how upset she was. "I promise."

Hermione only hoped they would. Even though she was now blind, things had never looked bleaker. _I may as well be a Muggle,_ she thought as she was led back to her bed and settled down. _What will happen to me now?_

It seemed that all she could do was wait, and see- or rather, _hear_, she thought wryly – what happened next.

* * *

_End of first chapter._


	2. Settling In

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. Unfortunately. One of the many pre-ordered copies of book 7 is, though!

Thank you to those who reviewed, faved, or whatever. It's much appreciated 3

* * *

Chapter Two

It was the end of the week already, and finally she was getting ready to go home. Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna and their children had come to pick her up; she was to stay with Harry and Ginny until she adjusted to life again.

"All set?" Harry asked, sounding enthusiastic. Hermione smiled, picking up on his hyperactivity.

"I'm ready," she smiled. Zacharias cleared his throat as Harry guided her towards the door.

"A word, please, before you leave." Ron groaned.

"Zacharias Smith, I've had it up to here with your words," he grumbled, but nevertheless they all stopped and waited to hear what he had to say.

"You're going to have to take it easy," he addressed Hermione. "Whilst the nerves elsewhere aren't too badly affected, you will be shaky and it'll take a while for your body to recover. Stick to light meals twice a day at first and then build up to a more normal eating pattern. I'm sending some potions to you, they'll help your body re-adjust."

"Anything else?" Hermione asked quietly. Zacharias sighed.

"Yes." A hand was put on her shoulder, and she assumed it was him. "Try to adjust to life with your blindness, Hermione. We might not ever be able to recover your optic nerves."

"Okay." Her voice was subdued, but behind her unseeing eyes her mind was racing away. Somewhere out there, there was a spell or a potion to help her – and she'd be damned if she didn't try and find it.

* * *

Waiting for her was a welcome home party, attended by everyone she could ever remember knowing and some she couldn't. Cheers of "Welcome home, Hermione!" met her, and she was instantly surrounded by people. It was extremely unnerving, and she was grateful to Harry and Ron, who rarely left her side except to get her a drink, and kept up a running commentary.

"There's Neville," Harry muttered, steering her out of the way. "He's an important Healer at St Mungo's now, he's the one who put Zacharias on your case. He's discovered properties of Mandrakes that we never even dreamed of."

"Always knew he'd do something with plants," commented Ron. "Never expected it to be potions, though. Oh look, there's the Patil twins."

"Still as annoying as ever," Harry said, and Hermione laughed. "They've gone into business with Lavender, doing fashion. Padma handles the money side so that Lav and Parv don't spend everything."

"There's Blaise," interrupted Ron, taking his arm off Hermione's, presumably to wave.

"Zabini?" asked Hermione for confirmation.

"Yeah, turns out he wasn't actually a Death Eater," Ron said, laughing. "He was just a stuck-up bastard."

"Ah," Hermione said with a grin. "So I take it he's changed, if he's here."

"Nope, he's still stuck-up. He's just actually doing some good, since he's Minister for Magic and all that." Harry placed a bottle in Hermione's hands to replace her empty Butterbeer.

"He's the Minister?" asked Hermione, surprised. "Of all those in our year, I wouldn't have expected him."

"He's actually quite decent," commented Ron. "Especially if you compare him to that git Fudge and Scrimgeour." Hermione felt Harry shudder at the name, and she laughed.

"I'll take your word for it." She sipped from her drink, feeling a little less trapped the more she heard. "Everything's changed so much," she sighed. "Slytherins… aren't Slytherins any more. Houses don't matter. _Sides_ don't matter."

"You'll adjust to it," Harry said, squeezing her hand. "Think of it as starting afresh."

"What else do I need to know, before I go to lie down?" she asked wearily. Harry and Ron went silent, she could imagine them looking at each other over her head. "Well?" she demanded, when she couldn't bear it any more.

"Well…" Harry said slowly. "You're not the only one living here with us at the moment."

"So?" asked Hermione, her thoughts brightening at the news – someone who wasn't absorbed in children and weddings to keep her company.

"So… there's a few here. We've been taking in those who were injured in the war and don't have anywhere to go, friends and family… Percy's here. So's Cho, and Oliver Wood." He took a deep breath, and Ron groaned.

"What he's trying to say, Hermione, is that Malfoy is also here," Ron said simply. Hermione's face scrunched up in hatred and loathing.

"_What?!_" she shouted, and the room fell silent. Harry groaned.

"It's not what you think, Hermione. Remember, two years have passed," he said defensively, but Hermione snatched her hands away from the two boys.

"He's the reason Dumbledore is dead!" she shrieked, unusually agitated – but with good reason. "He helped the Death Eaters escape from Azkaban! He kidnapped Ginny, tortured her, nearly _killed_ her – he killed Bill and Fleur, and she was _pregnant_, Harry, your almost-sister-in-law, did you forget that? Did you forget that he's the reason I've been lying in a coma for two years, the reason that my parents couldn't be at my side? Did you forget that he was the worst of them all, barring only Voldemort? _How could you forgive him for that?!_"

"Hermione, things have changed," Harry started, but Hermione stalked away, holding her hands out in front of her to make sure she didn't bump into anything. Every now and then a hand would push her gently in a certain direction, and she eventually reached the door.

"Things haven't changed that much," she snapped, holding onto the doorway to steady herself. "I'm blind because of him, Harry – and I was one of the lucky ones. There are people who would love to be in my position, because they would at least be alive." She felt her way forward, until she stumbled onto some stairs by accident, and climbed up them on all fours. Halfway up light footsteps caught up with her, reaching down for her arm.

"I'll show you to your room," Ginny said in a low voice.

"I don't want to stay here," Hermione whispered, snatching her arm back. "I'm not a charity case, Ginny, and I'm not living under the same roof as Malfoy."

"He's already offered to move out and find somewhere else, Hermione." Ginny's kind arms took her arm again and pulled her up the stairs. "The problem is, he doesn't _have_ anywhere else to go. He still offered to go, though – as soon as he heard your outburst in there. He was standing behind you." A furious blush came to Hermione's cheeks, but she held her head as high and as proudly as she could.

"I meant every word of it, Ginny. If it wasn't for him I would be able to walk up these stairs myself. And I wouldn't need to walk up them, because I would have my own house, my own family. I wouldn't have been comatose. I wouldn't be blind now."

"I know, Hermione." The stairs ended and Hermione stumbled, not expecting it. Ginny caught her and turned her, walking along carefully to guide her. "I'm just saying that a lot has happened. I know what he's done, more than you do."

"Don't rub it in, Ginny," Hermione snapped. "If he hadn't cursed me so badly I would know it just as well as you do." Ginny sighed.

"All I'm saying is give him a chance, Hermione. Here's your room." There was a click as a door swung open. "Your bed is about fifteen steps in front of you," Ginny added helpfully. Hermione stepped forward uneasily, counting; at fourteen she felt the edge of the bed, and felt her way to a lying position, back to the door. Ginny gave another sigh, and closed the door softly. Hermione felt a warmth at the corners of her broken eyes and lifted her fingers to touch the tears that were falling.

"I can't forgive him," she whispered, curling up and hugging her knees. "I can never forgive him."

* * *

A gentle knocking awoke her – Hermione realised that she had fallen asleep. Cried herself to sleep. _What a good start to the rest of my life,_ she grimaced. _Maybe if I keep my eyes closed, they'll go away._

The knocking stopped, and Hermione relaxed; and then the door was pushed open gently, and light footsteps alternating with the tapping of a stick approached. She kept her back to the door, and her eyes shut. A soft sigh came from above her, and then a low whisper.

"Granger… Hermione… I am more sorry than you will ever realise." She stiffened as she understood who it was. More footsteps followed before she could react further.

"Is she awake?" It was Ginny.

"No."

"We'd better leave her sleep," Ginny said, sounding like Molly Weasley. "Come on, Draco. Time to eat."

"She looks so peaceful," commented Draco. "I wish she didn't have to suffer, Gin."

"I know." A sound of movement, as if Ginny had hugged Draco, and then the footsteps and the tapping of the stick left slowly. Once she thought they had gone, Hermione reached out for her pillow and dragged it down slowly, hugging it as tightly as she could.

"Words can't make up for what you've done," she whispered to the pillow. "You took my sight from me. I can't read. I can't do magic, I can't make potions. I can't see the people I fought the war with, fought them for. I can't see the children, I won't see the weddings. I fought for the light and now I have to spend my life in darkness because of you." Shuddering sobs shook her, and she broke down into the pillow, loud, heart-broken cries muffled by its softness. She almost didn't hear the voice in the doorway.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, because I can never forgive myself."

* * *

When she awoke next, it was morning, and she knew because a small voice was coming from the doorway.

"Aunty Hermione, are you awake?"

She sat up with a smile in the direction of the doorway – or what she remembered as being the doorway. Tiny footsteps pattered across the floor and a child leapt up beside her.

"Aunty Hermione! Daddy says its time for breakfast and I can show you down and you can play with me!" she babbled in her childish excitement. Harry must have used magic to make her more understandable, because Hermione could hear her stumbling over some of the longer words and mispronouncing them.

"Alright then, Lily," she said, finding the edge of the bed with her hands and then swinging her legs over. A pair of slippers were there, waiting for her feet, and she smiled at the thoughtfulness. "Let's go." A small hand slipped into hers and tugged her around the bed.

"We're having toast for breakfast," she announced solemnly. "Mam says her toast isn't as good as Grandma Molly's was." _Was,_ noticed Hermione sombrely. It wasn't a surprise to her that Molly Weasley had died in the war. She had lost too much to be able to continue living – first Charlie, out in Romania, rescuing the dragons; then George, in a battle at Diagon Alley; next Bill and Fleur, and their unborn child, and finally Arthur. It had broken her heart.

"Your Grandma Molly was an excellent cook," Hermione agreed, pausing as Lily stumbled forward to guide Hermione's hand to a banister. "There's steps," Lily warned seriously. "Fifteen, because I counted." Hermione smiled at the child's eagerness.

"Let's count them again, shall we?" Hermione asked, tapping the floor in front of her with her foot until she found the drop to the step. "One," she said, stepping down carefully.

"One," Lily repeated eagerly, bouncing down next to her; Hermione felt for the next step.

"Two."

"Two!" Lily cheered, following, and between them they navigated the stairs, Hermione relying heavily on the banister to guide her. At last they reached fourteen, and then a hand reached up to help Hermione down.

"Fifteen!" Lily finished. A laugh came from next to her – Harry.

"She's never looked so pleased with herself," he commented, tucking Hermione's arm through his. "Go on, Lily, run off and tell your mother that we're coming." The small hand left Hermione's, and tiny footsteps ran off into the distance.

"How are you feeling today?" he asked warmly, as if her temper the day before had never happened. Hermione felt instantly guilty.

"I'm fine," she said with a feeble smile. "Thank you for putting the slippers out for me."

"Ginny insisted you be comfortable," he said, and she could picture him grinning, the soft, amused smile of a man very much in love.

"I'm sorry I caused such a scene yesterday," Hermione said softly as Harry guided her to a chair and sat her down. The smell of food filled the air, making her mouth water, and she could hear murmured conversations around her. Unlike the day before the air was very comfortable, almost homey.

"It's alright, Hermione. I can understand why you did it." Harry sat down next to her and took her hands in his. "I'm not asking you to give him a second chance, not now. I don't want another Vesuvius," he joked, and Hermione smiled. "Just put up with him, until we can find you a new home and a way of coping." The tapping of a stick approached, but it didn't come near her.

"How come he's got a stick?" she asked quietly. Harry sighed.

"It's his choice to tell you, Hermione, and your decision to ask," he said almost teasingly. "I'm not breaking anyone's confidence." Even though he sounded light-hearted, there was a serious undertone to his words that she recognised from the days before she fell into her coma.

"Alright, I won't make you tell me," she said, and then gave a wide grin. "Even though I could still hex you into oblivion, blind or not." Harry laughed. "If you don't feed me now, though, I'll hex you anyway."

"Don't worry, I've learnt not to stand between a woman and her food," he said with feeling. "Gin, can Hermione have some food?"

"Of course!" Ginny called, and footsteps moved closer. There was a clink on the table in front of her, and then gentle hands – Harry's, she thought, because they were larger and more calloused than Ginny's – guided her to the plate's edges. There they left, allowing her to find the slices of toast and eat herself. _They know me well,_ she thought, thankful for the small degree of independence she had left.

A fluttering caught her attention and she turned her head, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. Ginny gave a cry of "Mail's here!" and the murmuring stopped as the flapping increased. She heard an owl land near her, claws clicking on the table's surface. Then she heard the now familiar tapping of Draco's approach.

"There's an owl for you, Hermione," he said softly. Hermione froze.

"Granger," she corrected.

"What?" There was confusion in his voice, a much less condescending voice than it had been back in Hogwarts. Nevertheless, it was still Draco Malfoy.

"Don't call me Hermione," she said sharply. "You never have before. I don't need your pity, Malfoy."

"I don't-"

"Go away," she said shortly, before calling, "Harry?" More footsteps approached, and Harry said "Yes?"

"I've got an owl, for some reason. Can you read it to me, please?" There was a sigh from the direction of Draco, and then a soft tapping as he retreated. Harry was silent, presumably retrieving her letter, and then he sat next to her.

"Hermione," he read. "Please find enclosed a copy of the Braille alphabet and some books that should be of interest to you. The alphabet is charmed to speak the letters as you read them. I hope you enjoy." Hermione felt her heart soar. Books! Something to learn, to put her mind to; something that meant hope.

"Show me!" she commanded, cutting Harry off before he finished the letter.

"Yes Ma'am," he said jokingly, moving her plate with a _clink_. Her fingers were taken lightly, and placed onto parchment with a series of raised dots on it. As her fingers ran over them, a voice began to speak.

"A. B. C." Just as promised by the letter. A huge smile spread across Hermione's face and she reached out to find where Harry was sitting, touching his arms lightly before throwing her arms around him.

"This is fantastic, Harry!" she enthused, squeezing him tightly before finding the table and the parchment again. "What are the books?"

"I don't know," he said, probably with a shrug she imagined. "The titles are in Braille, too." He was sounding amused, and Hermione felt her cheeks grow heated. She felt like a schoolgirl again, back when subjects were new and there was a whole world waiting for her. Her fingers touched the parchment again. _Braille. I never thought of it._ Her thanks went out to whoever had sent the owl – probably Zacharias, she thought, remembering that she hadn't heard who the sender was.

No matter who had sent these, she was grateful. It meant she could still read, research, and be _useful_; and what good was Hermione Granger if she wasn't useful?

"There's a study down the hallway," Harry said thoughtfully. "I can show you the way now, if you want. It'll give you something to do." Hermione nodded enthusiastically.

"Thanks, Harry," she smiled. He helped her up, and they made their way down a wooden-floored hallway. Halfway along little Lily caught up, slipping her small hand into Hermione's other, and chattering excitedly. Hermione heard nothing of it; all her thoughts were focused on the books and parchment held by Harry. She would be fluent in Braille within a week, she vowed silently. And then she would be able to get back to work helping the Order, helping Harry; she could research ways to recover her eyesight.

Anything she could do, she would do; just to feel a little useful again.

* * *

Introducing... Malfoy! There'll be much more to come, hopefully soon as part of my new year's resolutions. Enjoy in the meantime!


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